Fire Emblem: Path of a Hero
by sunswordred
Summary: Chrom's attempt to stop Grima's resurrection fails. He and all of his Shepherds have fallen. Lucina is forced to fight back, leading a beaten, defeated people into their final days. But there is one hope-one hope yet for her future of despair.
1. Prologue: Dark Tidings

**A/N: Hey guys! This is my first fic on this site; I hope you all enjoy. I try to keep my work as clean as possible, but please, let me know if there are any glaring errors in a review/PM (if this site has those, haha)**

**In any case, this is an attempted novelization of Awakening, although the first few chapters will cover the Future of Despair that Lucina hails from in the game. Not all of the story will be exactly as it is in the game, but for the most part it'll be following Awakening's story line. **

**I know the title's a tad generic, but I'm not great at coming up with them. It could change in the future, if I can think of anything that works.**

**I only have two pairings that I'm going with for sure: Chrom/Sumia and Robin/Lucina. If you guys want to suggest other pairings (my only requirement is that Gen1 and Gen2 characters can't get together for obvious reasons) feel free to! I'll only reject pairings that I feel I can't write successfully for whatever reason.**

**Please leave a review! I would love to hear any criticism or compliments that you have. Thanks!**

**Oh, and of course, I don't own Fire Emblem or any of it's characters. They are all property of Intelligent Systems and Nintendo.**

* * *

**Prologue: Dark Tidings**

Lucina walked ten steps, reached one of the four walls of the bright room she was in, turned to the left, and walked ten more.

Turned left. Ten more.

Turned left. Ten more.

And—

"Milady, pacing isn't going to help anything, you know."

Lucina glanced at the speaker. Frederick was there, watching as always. His soft brown eyes were furrowed as he watched her pace back and forth, and his arms were crossed over his chest. He still wore his armor—despite the fact that they were in no immediate danger—but he was the spitting image of a mother hen, worrying over her chicks, as he gazed at her. She shook her head, and her long, dark blue hair flew from shoulder to shoulder.

"I can't help it, Frederick. I'm worried about mother and father."

And indeed she was. Lucina's father—Chrom—had left the castle days ago with his trusted Shepherds for a final assault on the Dragon's Table, where Validar, the ruler of Plegia, was attempting to revive the dark god Grima. The danger was great. Validar had proven himself a tricky foe already. Somehow, he'd managed to wrest the Fire Emblem from Chrom's grasp; her father had refused to explain how, but it had to be some trickery.

Lucina could still remember the day he had left, a week earlier. It had been in the early morning, before daybreak. He had taken all the Shepherds with him except Frederick; Ylisse's longest standing knight was left in command of defense of the castle, and watching over Lucina and Cynthia.

_Father was so grim that day, _Lucina recalled. _No laughing, no joking; all business. _Neither Robin nor Chrom had offered any of their usual banter to the princess or each other.

The silence of that day had been stifling.

* * *

She was still furious that Chrom had refused to bring her along, Frederick could see. Lucina was young—at age 15, she would be by far the youngest of the Shepherds—but she was no slouch with a weapon in hand. She had sparred with her father starting at age nine, and her skill was peerless. Frederick had watched her grow stronger by the year, and despite being so young, she could match many of Ylisse's best swordsmen in a fight.

Any observer could tell that Lucina would grow to become a beautiful woman. Her eyes were a piercing blue, and her dark blue hair fell past her shoulders. She was slim, but not overly so. Her face had a determined look about it; she took after her father in that way, Frederick had noticed. But she had a gentler side as well. She did not live by the blade like her father; at first, violence had sickened her, and although she was no pacifist like the late Emmeryn, she preferred peace to the blade.

_He's just trying to protect you,_ _Lucina, _Frederick thought to himself. But that thought was hardly encouraging to the weary old knight, and it would certainly not ease her fears. He knew he had to do something to calm her down, though.

"Chrom and Sumia will be fine, Lucina. The Shepherds have made it through countless campaigns…not necessarily unscathed, but Chrom and Robin always figure out a way to prevail." Frederick tried as best he could to sound reassuring, but he could tell from the look she shot him that his attempt had failed.

Lucina sighed sadly. "I just want my parents back," she murmured as she finally paused her pacing and gazed out the window. The city was bustling about beneath her; it was always active during the day as citizens shopped, bargained, chatted, and generally lived amiable, happy lives. Children laughed and played in the streets, heedless of the world-changing events taking place. Her hand brushed Falchion, which was sheathed at her side. Chrom had left it with her for safekeeping. Frederick was still curious as to why Chrom had done so. The prince had claimed his heir should have the famed weapon with her; it was tradition in Ylisse, but the weapon had served Chrom well over many a campaign.

The knight couldn't stand to see the princess so distraught. He straightened himself tiredly from the chair he was sitting in.

"Why don't you find Cynthia?" Frederick suggested. "It might help take your mind off everything."

Lucina glanced at Frederick. In truth, she was surprised the old knight had let Cynthia leave his sight. Frederick was incredibly cautious and wary when it came to his duty—protecting the heirs to the halidom of Ylisse. She was even more surprised he was willing to let BOTH her and Cynthia out of his sight.

Frederick caught the surprised glance. "Don't stray too far," he remembered to add, his brows furrowing once again as he thought of all the ills that could befall the two princesses. "Chrom said you two aren't to leave the castle. It's getting unstable in the city with everyone gone."

A brief smile crossed Lucina's face. "Of course, Frederick the Wary," she replied, a bit of sass finally returning to her face. Frederick was relieved that she had finally smiled. "Careful's my middle name, you know."

"If only," The knight muttered under his breath.

* * *

Lucina walked briskly down the passageways of the castle, nodding at soldiers as she passed. She was still self-conscious when they bowed in return. Like her father, she'd never gotten used to the formality of being a noble.

She reached the east wing of the castle, and entered her sister's room without knocking.

"Cynth—Er, Cynthia?"

Lucina was surprised to find the room empty. Then again, her sister wasn't one to stay cooped up all day. Having just walked most of the passageways and not seeing her, Lucina came to the conclusion that she'd probably left the castle.

_Without permission, of course,_ Lucina thought, somewhat irritated. Then again, it'd always been like that; Lucina, focused on the task she was given and obeying her orders to the T, and Cynthia, wild and uncontrollable, always darting around and raising trouble. Her father often joked Cynthia had inherited that from him and that Lucina had inherited her dedication from her mother.

Lucina's thoughts were interrupted by sudden shouting on the castle battlements.

"R-Risen! Risen on the horizon!"

Lucina jolted in surprise as a soldier's voice rang down from the battlements. _Risen?! Here?! _She thought in shock. The Risen had never dared an attack on the capital city of the halidom. She was frozen in shock as she tried to think of what to do. What would her father do? Other men on the wall picked up the soldier's shouts. What was more was that there was an unmistakable tinge of fear to each voice that grew with each passing second.

_The duties of the exalt fall to you while I'm gone._

Chrom's words suddenly rang strong in Lucina's head. She finally snapped into action, racing from Cynthia's abandoned room to the front gates of the castle. As she ran, her mind raced. Surely it couldn't be a large horde of the beasts. The monsters had only begun appearing around the kingdom in recent days, but never in large numbers. The castle was well-garrisoned; they could easily fight the monsters off. But even before she had finished the thought, she doubted it. There had been too much fear in the warnings—inexplicable fear if it were a small group of the creatures.

The castle was a hive of activity. Soldiers raced through the passageways, gathering equipment and racing outside to the outer city walls. Men shouted across the drilling grounds as troops broke away from their practicing to suit up in their armor and prepare for battle. Sergeants barked orders as to their men, and gradually a sense of organization fell across the castle. The men slowly separated into respective divisions—light infantry, heavily armored knights, cavalry, archers, mages—and began marching out of the castle grounds to the city walls.

Lucina raced out of the castle, and then up the stairs to the battlements, two at a time. She burst up on top of the wall and gazed out from the battlements. The city gleamed beneath her, the predominantly white buildings shining in the bright sunlight of the afternoon. She looked past Ylisstol to the fields beyond, covered in farmland that fed much of the country.

What she saw horrified her.

A massive horde of Risen was approaching Ylisstol from the west. Their numbers stretched as far as the eye could see, a never-ending tide of undead soldiers, shambling with deadly purpose straight at the city. They clutched rusted swords, axes, and spears, while they spewed noxious fumes that created a cloud of death over the horde. What was even more shocking was that they were almost moving in formation. The thud of thousands of rotting feet hitting the ground as one rumbled across the warm summer air. Risen were notorious for their lack of organization, lacking any sort of leadership. The only true advantage humanity had over their endless stamina was the power of the mind.

Ylisstol's outer lying provinces had countered Risen attacks with tactical skill, not numbers, although the average soldier typically outmatched Risen. The creatures, despite often having superior numbers, allowed themselves to get stretched out and systematically eliminated one by one.

These Risen, however, looked as if they had some…direction. Some leader guiding their movements. They weren't wandering aimlessly, simply killing what they came across. They had a purpose.

That purpose was to raze Ylisstol to the ground.

Lucina was finally broken from her shock by a loud voice, right next to her.

"Milady! You must get into the castle!"

Frederick had come onto the battlements beside her, and was looking at her expectantly. In spite of the terrifying sight beyond the walls, he was calm and focused. Lucina snapped out of her daze and began thinking rapidly. _What would Father do? Cynthia may not hear what's happening, but I have to rally the castle garrison…_

"Frederick, get the civilians into the castle! We don't have enough men to hold the city walls; they must buy time until we've evacuated the city. I'm going out to find Cynthia to make sure she gets in before we close the gates." Frederick began to protest at the last part, and Lucina cut him off. "I know what you're going to say; it's not safe. But none of us are safe now. Lead the defenses until they break through. Then retreat to the castle and regroup there. That's an _order_, Frederick," Lucina finished sharply.

The old veteran shook his head ruefully. Lucina thought he was going to give a stinging retort, or worse, refuse her orders. After all, she was only fifteen; the veteran Shepherd obviously should have been the one giving commands.

He simply replied "You've learned from your father well," before darting off, shouting orders to a division of knights. He grouped them up behind him and marched to the city walls.

Lucina watched him leave, somewhat touched by his remark. She knew she was nothing compared to her father; not in leadership nor in battle. But she hoped to one day surpass him. _But where is father? _Lucina wondered. Was the horde of Risen a sign…? No. She couldn't think that. She _refused_ to think that her legendary father could be defeated, would _allow _himself to be defeated. It was like Frederick had said—her father and the Robin had grasped victory out of the jaws of defeat more times than she could imagine. They were an indomitable pair; as one, they were indestructible. She cast the distracting thoughts from her mind; it was her time to prove she was worthy of her father's legacy. She sped out of the castle gates to find Cynthia, her eyes set determinedly on the task ahead of her. She would not let her sister or her people down.

* * *

**A/N: And there it is, the first chapter of my fic.**

**Again, please review! I love all sorts of feedback, and I really want to know how my writing is. And feel free to suggest pairings.**

**Next chapter should be up within a few days.**


	2. Chapter One: Flight

**A/N: First off- thank you all so much for the reviews! I really appreciate them, and if you're enjoying the story, keep them coming! Don't be afraid to offer criticism as well, of course. After all, I'm here to improve.**

******Oh, and speaking of reviews, one of you wondered how old Frederick and the rest of the Shepherds were in this adaption of the game. Well, because this is the future, just before Lucina travels to the past, they're considerably older than they are in the maingame. I've always imagined Frederick as being in his thirties when Chrom finds Robin, so I figure it'd make sense for him to be fifty when Lucina's in her mid teens. Basically, just imagine a logical age for each of the Shepherds, add fifteen years, and you've got how old they are in Lucina's future.**

**In any case, here's chapter "one", as the actual first chapter was a prologue in true FE fashion. **

* * *

Chapter One: Flight

Lucina darted through Ylisstol's well paved streets, glancing here and there for sight of her sister's trademark blue pigtails. She was struggling, though. She was running against a torrent of fleeing citizens, all of them making way for the safer walls of the castle. Many of the civilians recognized her, eyes widening and shouting at her to flee to the castle.

_Where could she be, where could she be? _Lucina thought despairingly as she looked high and low for Cynthia. Chrom's "pega-pony princess" had a habit of disappearing and being hard to find…

* * *

Frederick gazed out, dismayed at the horde before him.

The Risen were seemingly endless in number. They had moved faster than he'd anticipated; significantly faster than their typical shambling pace carried them.

He glanced along the walls. Approximately three hundred archers lined the battlements, facing the oncoming horde. Below, three hundred swordsmen, spearmen, and axmen braced themselves behind the gates, while a hundred cavalry waited in the alleys, to come crashing in if the infantry were forced to retreat.

Frederick hoped to use the city's natural chokepoints to his advantage; on an open field like the one outside Ylisstol, his men would be slaughtered. But if he could channel the Risen into the narrow alleys and streets of the city, trapping them into narrow confinements, he could force one-on-one combat. On the other hand, cavalry charges would be less effective; however, it was his only option. He cursed inwardly at himself for having never pursued learning tactics from Robin as enthusiastically as Robin had pursued learning the sword from him.

He could only hope his men would prevail.

Of course, all his planning assumed the Risen actually managed to breach the city. How they hoped to do that, the veteran knight had no idea; Risen were not known for being capable of carrying out sieges. And the gates were far too strong for the creatures to simply batter down with their hands…

Casting the thoughts from his mind, he raised his arm, ready to give the signal.

"On my count!" Frederick shouted along the walls, his voice carrying to each end of the battlements. "Ready….FIRE!"

Three hundred bows sounded at once, and a deadly hum filled the air as they flew at high speed towards the approaching corpses below.

Fifty of the monsters collapsed and gradually faded into dust. A further thirty were wounded badly…but therein lay part of the problem. Risen do not feel pain. They do not feel fear.

They do not feel. They march. They kill. Wounds do not stop them like they do humans.

The horde advanced.

* * *

Cynthia was having a very rough day.

After being cooped up in the palace for what felt like _days_ she'd decided to go out into the city, amongst the citizens.

She hadn't been out on the streets more than ten minutes when screams began at the walls, and people began fleeing in every direction like headless chicken.

"Risen?! Are you serious?!" Cynthia muttered to no one in particular. "This was supposed to be my shopping day!" _Then again, it does give me a chance to be heroic. Hmmm..._

No sooner were the words out of her mouth then a wyvern landed out of nowhere right next to her.

"What the—Gerome?" Cynthia said in surprise as she recognized her unannounced visitor. "You really do have a flair for the dramatic, don't you?" She giggled, in spite of the panicking citizens all around her.

The wyvern rider completely ignored her question. His face was like a mask, hiding whatever emotions he was feeling. "No time for questions right now, Cynthia. Get on the wyvern. I don't have time to explain." His voice brooked no argument from the princess, who scoffed at the teen in front of her. Then realization dawned in her eyes.

"This is about those Risen, isn't it?" She asked suspiciously.

When he didn't reply, she took the initiative. "Oh, come on! You know how many men are garrisoned here! There's no way I'm in danger."

"I think you might change your mind when you get a look from up above," he replied ominously. "Now come on. Once I get you to safety, I still have to come back for Lucina."

Cynthia frowned. "I'm not about to just abandon everyone and-"

"I'm sure you have a very heroic death pose all planned out," Gerome bit back sarcastically, "but I'd rather not see it today." Without giving her a chance to argue, he held his hand out to her.

* * *

Frederick cursed himself viciously. He'd failed to hold the walls.

Although he'd thought it impossible for the creatures to scale them, he'd been wrong about the Risen not bringing siege equipment. They'd brought no towers, but they did have dozens of easily hidden ladders, concealing the scaling equipment amongst the horde until they were right up to the walls. Frederick's archers hadn't even dented the number of the things.

By the time Frederick had realized what was happening, it was far too late for him to order his archers to gather burning arrows, or for him to round up his infantry to try to fight the creatures off. He'd hoped his archers would be able to simply push the ladders off the walls, but then a furious rain of arrows began upon the beleaguered defenders. They were forced to put their shields up until the creatures were starting to appear over the top of the battlements, and then the slaughter began.

To call it a slaughter was perhaps exaggeration. The Ylisseans gave as good as they got. Each archer carried a short sword and obviously shield, and they all had at least some proficiency in hand-to-hand combat. But they were heavily outnumbered.

Frederick found himself fighting three Risen at once. One, hefting a finely made steel lance, lunged. Frederick sidestepped and quickly gutted the monster, then whirled wildly to parry an incoming ax strike, knocking aside the weapon with his lance. He used his shield to deflect the third creature's sword, and then swept his silver spear in a smooth arc, slitting the throats of both remaining creatures.

He paused to catch his breath and look along the walls in dismay. For every Risen that fell, two more took its place, and every loss the Ylisseans took was devastating.

"Retreat!" The knight roared. "Back! To the castle! The infantry and cavalry will cover us; retreat!"

Immediately, the archers disengaged for their enemy, fighting a defensive battle. Every step seemed to bring another Ylissean to the grave. Frederick fought grimly on, thinking rapidly. His plan to force hand-to-hand fighting in the streets seemed more and more doomed as he watched his men fall. _I need Robin, damnit, _the knight thought to himself. He was not born to meddle in tactics; he was born to fight.

"Greg!" Frederick called to his lieutenant. The man came darting over, slaying an overly adventurous Risen as he did.

"Sir?" The archers had reached the streets now, and they began to flee openly to the castle. The infantry who had been guarding the gates abandoned their posts and engaged the onslaught. Screams rent the air and the clash of metal on metal dominated all. The Risen appeared to be totally ignoring the gates; why bother, the knight supposed wryly, with the walls so utterly taken?

"Continue the retreat to the castle. I'll lead a contingent of cavalry and harry the beasts for as long as possible, slipping away into the alleys before they can react. Make sure you leave a significant force of infantry on the walls of the castle; heavily armored infantry, I mean." Frederick didn't intend to lose the castle by the same ignorance that had lost him the city.

But as he slipped away into an alley to join his group of knights, despair crept over him, and fear crept into his heart. Ylisstol was surrounded. The city was doomed.

_But there's still hope, _Frederick reminded himself. _Gerome already has Cynthia…I just have to buy some time. _The knight knew what buying time would mean, however.

A grim smile crossed his face. It was as good a day as any to die.

* * *

Lucina muttered an expletive underneath her breath. The fighting had already poured onto the streets of Ylisstol as Frederick's men beat a far hastier retreat then she'd anticipated. The Risen were pouring over the walls—she had no idea how, but that mattered little now. She'd seen neither hide nor hair of Cynthia, so her sister had to be in the castle by now.

Lucina refused to think of the alternative.

She raced back in through the gates, realizing that she'd be of little help in the chaotic fighting in the streets. Fredrick was organizing swift hit and run tactics. It minimized Ylissean casualties, but there was no end to the Risen. She watched apprehensively from the walls as the fighting grew closer and closer to the castle walls, before Frederick was forced to yell a full retreat.

The last of the men reached the castle grounds, and the gates were closed hastily before the Risen could get in. Lucina raced down the battlement steps. Frederick was the last man in. She was frozen at the sight of him.

Countless dents dotted his armor from an unimaginable number of Risen blows. One eye was swelled shut—possibly from a smack from the butt of a lance. He was bleeding profusely from a wound in his leg, and a gaping wound was clearly visible on his chest. He dripped sweat, blood, and some other liquid she did not recognize—were they tears?

"Frederick—oh gods, Frederick! You need a healer!"

The knight raised a hand in protest. "No, milady. Get inside the castle. The Risen will be assaulting the walls soon. This is about to become a killing ground." His voice was weak from strain, and he almost collapsed on the spot. It was only sheer force of will that kept him standing. He'd been at the forefront of the entire battle, at times the only thing that kept a full rout from occurring. But it had taken its toll on him.

"You're in no shape to fight, Frederick! You'll die!"

The knight merely uncorked an elixir from a pouch in his belt and drank deeply. Throwing the vial away, he immediately looked somewhat better. He bowed deeply. "It has been an honor to serve your family, milady. I apologize for failing you and my lord Chrom."

Lucina was horrified. "Frederick, don't-"

Her voice caught. Of all the people in Lucina's life, Frederick was perhaps the one she knew best, even better than her parents. He'd been by her side when she'd been born. He was there when she took her first steps as an infant, picked up her first sword, and he'd taught her the lance. As she had grown up, Frederick had been there more than any other, the highest example of a knight in all the lands. No man in the world was more reliable than Frederick.

The knight shook his head. "It is my duty, milady. But please," he paused, "promise me one thing."

"Frederick…"

The knight cut her off. "I have an escape route planned for you. Just hold the castle for as long as possible. Don't play hero."

"Frederick, I couldn't just abandon my people!" Lucina may have been feeling fear and despair, but she was no craven cur. She refused to be that.

"You are not abandoning them, Lucina. You are surviving so you may one day save them. This is not your day to die. You will escape this place. I vow it to you." Frederick may have been weakened, but there was a firm edge to his voice that brooked no argument. At the sad look on Lucina's face, Frederick's eyes softened. "Goodbye, milady. May we meet again…in a better place. A better time."

Without another word, the rock that had anchored Ylisse's royal family for well over two decades marched to the walls. The Risen were already beginning their final assault, and screams rent the air as steel met steel and blood flew once more.

Lucina retreated to the castle on shaky legs, remembering Frederick's last words. She vowed not to forget them, and her fear dissipated like smoke in the wind.

"To me, men of Ylisse!" She yelled, voice full of the determination of her father. "To me!"

* * *

Frederick's plan to use heavy infantry to block the narrow causeways of the walls had worked for a while.

The Risen had swept over the battlements like a tidal wave, unstoppable and endless. Then, they met the solid wall of steel that was each knight on those ramparts. Their weapons were totally ineffective against the Ylissean infantry, and if the creatures didn't disintegrate upon death, the walls would've piled high with Risen corpses.

But gradually, sheer force of number began to overwhelm the Ylisseans. Each knight slew a dozen of the monsters, only to find two dozen more in their place. The men fatigued; the Risen did not. And eventually, the wild blows of the Risen found the weak points in the Ylissean knights' armor as the men's reflexes slowed.

Frederick fought with unparalleled fury. He was a whirlwind of unstoppable death, and countless Risen fell to his lance that day. Their counter blows were nothing to the knight, who seemed to fight with the fury of Naga herself by his side. He ignored all injuries, sweeping his silver lance with deadly precision and force, puncturing four of the creatures at once. He sidestepped an axe, cracked the wielder over the head, and thrust his lance into him in one fluid motion. A swift Risen managed to cut his sword deep into Frederick's blind side, but the knight totally ignored the blow, crushing the swordsman's head with a blow from his lance. He fought for the man he had failed, and the daughter he had placed in his protection. And he would not let them down.

But even Frederick couldn't last forever. His men were gradually pushed back, and the tiring knight slipped as he attempted to retreat with them. He fell to the ground heavily, at last utterly spent.

The Risen were on him within seconds.

* * *

Lucina never saw Frederick fall.

She was too busy fighting for her life.

Frederick may have halted one half of the Risen advance, but the other was no so impeded. Without the stalwart knight to lead the infantry on the other side of the walls, they had fallen far more quickly. The beasts had forced the castle doors open and poured into the main hall, where Lucina waited with the last of the soldiers.

The battle quickly lost all cohesion and became a mess of bodies, weapons, and blood. Lucina blocked an ax strike and slid sideways, slashing horizontally and cutting one Risen down. Two more advanced on her; at the last possible moment, she slid between their feet, slashing once. She was rewarded with a shower of dust as the monsters disintegrated. She rolled quickly to her feet, Falchion at the ready, when a massive blast of sheer force splintered the castle walls.

Dust poured everywhere and a deep mist blocked the rest of the main hall from sight. Lucina was dazed by the force of whatever had hit the castle, but she faced the gaping hole in the wall, Falchion raised defensively in front of her.

"So ends the human race…"

A booming voice echoed around Lucina, reverberating off the walls, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. Lucina flinched, instinctively turning to find the source of the voice.

"The future is built upon the past," the deep, harsh voice continued, carrying tones of mockery, hate, and glee all at once. "But _your_ kind shall _never_ see it!"

Lucina whirled around, wildly searching the mist and dust. Her breathing became short and panicked, and suddenly she looked to the left.

Six massive, deep red eyes greeted her.

All six of them focused directly on her. Lucina's heart beat furiously and her breaths became little more than quick, shallow gasps. Grima was so massive she couldn't even _see _all of him. He was wrapped around the castle, and his head peeked through the massive gap in the wall he'd just made. Each of his eyes was bigger than Lucina herself.

Grima continued on, heedless of her wavering legs and shaking arms.

"Your mother and father…are DEAD, tiny one."

_No, _Lucina thought, gasping with shock and backing away, stretching Falchion at the god facing her. _No…father…mother…_

She couldn't even offer a response. Tears threatened to break out onto her face, which was illuminated by Grima's bright red eyes. The dragon laughed mockingly, shifting backwards slightly, causing a gust to pick up, so massive was he.

"And now, it is your turn," the dragon roared, "to _die!" _His last words were punctuated by him throwing his massive head forward, opening his maw wide. Lucina's vision was filled with razor sharp teeth bigger than her, and his hot, rancid breath swept over the air around her. She screamed, unable to move. Her fear, the realization that her parents were dead, Frederick's certain death, and her own impending demise all made her feel like the ground had been swept away from beneath her feet...

...And then she realized that it actually _had_ been. Someone had grabbed her roughly and carried her out of the way of Grima's gaping jaws, and she flew away past the dark god, Ylisstol burning beneath her. Grima was left with a mouthful of brick and stone.

Her rescuer had somehow managed to grab her mid flight and sweep her onto his mount, seating her behind him, without even shifting the beast's trajectory.

"Faster, girl," he muttered to his mount, casting a worried glance behind him.

"Gerome?!" Lucina gasped, recognizing her rescuer. _Where did he come from?_

"We'll have time for 'hello' later," he growled. "For now, I've got a princess to save."

Grima had finally managed to extract his teeth from the stone and brick of Ylisstol's castle. He gave a roar filled with pain, displeasure, and rage. His wings flapped, and he turned, quickly finding Gerome and Lucina in the air, a mere few hundred yards away.

"Now would be a really good time, Brady," Gerome muttered under his breath, casting another glance behind him. The dragon was gaining with each second. There was simply no way for a wyvern to out fly a god. _How ironic, _Lucina thought, watching the rapidly approaching dragon. _I escape one death only to take another to the grave with me._

Grima reared his head back as he flew quickly towards them, and dark flames erupted from his maw, racing towards the escapees.

"NOW WOULD BE A REALLY GOOD TIME, BRADY!" Gerome roared, panic lacing his voice as he watched death approach. His mount was balking in the air, and he'd seemingly lost control over her in her panic. He had no way to avoid the black flames.

Lucina shut her eyes. _Mother…father…I'll be with you soon._

Just as the dark flames reached her, a bright light surrounded them. Everything disappeared, and it felt as if Lucina had been sucked into a void.

Just as quickly as the light had engulfed her and Gerome, it spat them out in a completely different location. Lucina barely had time to catch sight of a small group of people surrounding a young man wielding a staff before she hit the ground hard and her world went black.

* * *

**A/N: That was a pretty tough chapter to write. I'm trying to get the hang of battle scenes, and I also really don't want to get OOC with anybody. I think I remained in character, but let me know if anything seems off.**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'll hopefully have time tomorrow to write another, although I'm a little busier than I was today. It can take me a few hours to get it to my satisfaction. Thank god it's summer, right?**


	3. Chapter Two: Gatherings

Chapter Two: Gatherings

Lucina came to her senses slowly. She was lying on something soft, and a wet cloth was on her head. She could hear people talking nearby; it sounded like they were arguing heatedly about something. She opened her eyes to see both sky and stone above her, without a cloud in sight. Sunlight streamed through the broken roof above her, and she blinked, shifting slightly and raising an arm to shield her eyes.

"Urgh…my head…" the princess groaned.

The sound of arguing stopped abruptly. "Lucina!" someone exclaimed. "You're awake!"

Lucina turned her head in the direction of the voice, blinking confusedly. Two teenagers were watching her; one of them was smiling happily while the other had a distinct look of discontent on his face. The one on the left—who had forced a happy grin onto his face - was her cousin, Owain. He had brown hair that rebelliously poked out in several directions and wore a leather jacket, with a sword sheathed at his waist.

Gerome stood next to Owain with a composed expression. He was dressed in his trademark black armor as if ready for battle, although his axe was slung across his back. His blue hair was slicked back like always. How he managed to get it to stay like that, Lucina had no idea. He nodded a greeting at her, keeping his face neutral.

Lucina grabbed her head again. "Why am I…?" she began, before stopping midsentence as everything rushed back to her. "Oh gods, no," she whispered, a chilling feeling pouring through her body. She looked at the two in front of her, desperately hoping for them to be confused by her fear, for them to deny everything that had happened.

Owain's seemingly ever present smile faded rapidly. "I'm sorry, Lucina," he said sadly. "Brady managed to get you and Cynthia out with Gerome's help, but with Grima back…it can only mean that the Shepherds…they're all…they're…"

"Dead," Gerome finished bluntly for Owain. "All the Shepherds are dead. We don't know how, but they failed, and the Fell Dragon is back." His voice was harsh, yet restrained, as if he were holding back his anger in some way.

Owain glared at him savagely. "What the hell?!" he exclaimed, pushing Gerome hard. "Do you have no pity? No empathy? _Down, _sword hand!" he finished angrily as his right arm grasped at the hilt of his blade, while the left restrained it simultaneously. In another time, Lucina might've found the situation rather amusing.

_A better place. A better time. _Frederick's last words echoed through Lucina's head dully. She sniffed quietly, holding back the tears that so desperately tried to emerge.

Owain and Gerome both froze, having heard the sniffle. Owain glanced at Lucina, made eye contact, and shamefully looked away. "So-sorry, cuz," he stammered. "I'm gonna, uh, look for some firewood for our camp tonight. The others should be getting back shortly. Gerome, you coming?"

Gerome frowned. "I think it'll only take one to gather enough for tonight—"

"Good!" Owain exclaimed cheerfully, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out of the fort. "I'm glad you're deciding to be so helpful!"

* * *

Lucina waited until the sounds of their movement had faded off into the distance before leaving the fort herself. She could hear Laurent stirring, and she needed to be alone.

The abandoned fort was surrounded by a large, green forest. It was…peaceful in the woods. Birds sang merrily in the treetops, blissfully unaware of the coming end of the world. Squirrels darted happily from tree to tree, chasing each other, enjoying the warmth of the summer sun.

Lucina found a river and sat by it, staring at her reflection in the slowly moving water. In her mind, she pictured her father and mother's heroic faces, smiling down at her gently. It reminded her of when she was a baby, when they seemed to spend every waking moment watching her, always smiling, always happy.

_Your mother and father…are dead._

Grima's horrible, chilling voice resonated through her head. Then the image changed. A sword had impaled itself through her father, and he fell, gasping, as his life's blood poured from his body, and his spirit fled. He collapsed at her feet, and his blood swirled around her. She was frozen to the spot, staring in horror as his blood rose higher and higher. Sumia screamed as an arrow struck her through the heart, and she, too, fell, her blood adding to the rising pool.

Lucina gasped as the vision faded away. She again fought the tears that threatened to break onto her face. But this time, she lost the fight. They poured down in a silent stream, and she began quietly crying, shaking slightly as she put her face in her hands, as if she were attempting to stop her tears. She heard someone approaching, and doubled her attempts to compose herself, hastily drying her eyes with her sleeve.

"L-Lucy?"

Lucina instantly recognized the voice. How could she fail to? It was her sister's. She heard soft footsteps behind her and she stood up, turning. Cynthia stood there, her hair tied up in two pigtails like always. Lucina was silent, attempting to avoid meeting her sister's eyes. She knew her eyes would still be red, knew her face would still have wet streaks showing.

"Not a pretty sight, huh?" Lucina asked, attempting to force a smile. She had to be strong. For her sister…for her friends…for her people…she had to be strong.

Cynthia took two steps forward, pulled her sister into a tight hug, and broke down completely. She sobbed brokenly, letting out gasping breaths as her tears ran down her face unchecked. Lucina felt her shoulder dampen slightly as her sister's tears began dripping onto it.

"Shh…" Lucina whispered, pulling her sister tighter. "It's okay. It'll be okay."

"I thought you were…I was so worried…just like…" Cynthia choked out, unable to finish.

"I know. I know. I'm here now," Lucina cooed softly.

Gradually, Cynthia stopped shaking, and began sniffling loudly. Lucina pulled away, wiping away the last of her tears. "Better?" Lucina asked.

"Y-yep," Cynthia giggled, as her trademark grin finally broke onto her face.

Lucina smiled in reply. "Let's get back to camp," she said, pulling her sister away from the river as she headed back to the fort.

"Alright!" Cynthia said cheerfully, skipping away from Lucina.

"Gah! Cynthia! Don't get too far ahead!"

"Too slow, Lucy! What kind of hero runs at that pace?"

As Lucina dashed off, away from the river, she cast one last look behind her. _I cannot grieve for you today, father, _Lucina thought. _I know you would want me to put our people first. I must be strong for them. But one day…when this is all over…I will. I promise you that._

* * *

Lucina arrived back at the camp to find it much more crowded than it had been previously. Specifically, counting herself, there were now twelve of her comrades in the fort, all surrounding a large fire in the middle of the ruined fortress.

There was Inigo, the dancer Olivia's son. He had silver hair in spite of his youth, likely because his father's hair was the same color. Although he could be a somewhat irritating womanizer, he'd never tried his "talents" on Lucina; probably because he knew it wouldn't end well for him. He froze from attempting to—and failing—to hit on the girl next to him when Lucina walked in, giving her a big grin and a roguish wink.

He should've known better than to hit on Kjelle, of course. She was extremely strong, especially for a girl, and tended to fend of romantic advances with a hard right to the face. Truth be told, Inigo was lucky to not have a broken nose already. Kjelle smiled when she saw Lucina, giving her a half-salute from her seated position, before elbowing Inigo hard in the side.

Next to Kjelle, Brady picked at his food squeamishly. He wasn't too partial to bear meat, and had a picky diet. A scar crossed his face, and that, combined with his crude manner of speaking, caused many to mistake him for a bandit at first glance. Lucina, however, knew that Brady had the gentlest heart of everyone gathered in the fort.

Owain was explaining the nuances of naming weapons to Brady, waving his arms animatedly as he talked. Every now and then, his "sword hand" would begin to spasm, and Owain would shout, "Down, sword hand!" Every time, Brady would jump halfway up into the air, looking as if though he were seated next to an insane man.

A mage in a ridiculously tall hat was seated next to Owain, gazing into the flames analytically. Lucina smiled inwardly at Laurent's concentrated face. He was probably attempting to calculate the approximate time before the flames would need to be rekindled using some ridiculous equation only he—or his mother, Miriel—could think up. His blunt style of talking, combined with his overwhelming intelligence and tendency to stick his face into books for days at a time, was off-putting to some, although in truth he was as good a friend to have as any.

Cynthia had already taken her place by the fire, right next to her best friend, Severa. The young princess was chatting amiably with her, waving at Lucina as she entered with a big grin on her face. With most people, Severa could be quite harsh and manipulative, but she and Cynthia had always gotten along well, perhaps because they were childhood friends.

Gerome was sitting quietly next to Severa, not talking to anyone. He had his back turned to Lucina when she entered, and if he noticed her, he didn't show it. He was staring into the flames, deep in thought, seemingly oblivious to everything going on around him.

Noire and Yarne sat next to her, which made a lot of sense in Lucina's mind. Both could be extremely pessimistic—Noire because she had spent most of her life being abused by her own mother, and Yarne because he was one of the last remaining members of his species. Actually, he was now the last taguel, Lucina remembered grimly.

The last of the twelve, besides Lucina herself, was Nah. Lucina couldn't help a small chuckle escaping her at the thought of the girl's ridiculous name. Nah was attempting to get Noire and Panne to cheer up, although she wasn't making much progress. Although Nah looked several years younger than the rest of them, she was actually approximately the same age. Manaketes like Nah aged much slower than humans; the effect was reduced on her because of her human father, but she could still expect a far longer life span than everyone else around the fire. Nah was one of the most mature of the Shepherds, which was rather ironic, considering how childish her own mother could act.

As soon as Lucina entered the fort, the chatter began to slowly die down, and everyone sitting around the campfire turned to look at her.

Lucina cleared her throat, a little self-conscious at the eleven pairs of eyes focused on her. "Well," she said slowly, "first things first. Grima's back. Which means…" her voice trailed off, and Lucina looked skyward, as if seeking encouragement. "It means," she continued, voice stronger this time, "that my father and his companions…your parents…have failed." She cleared her voice huskily.

There was silence around the fire, until Laurent spoke up. "So…what do we do now, Lucina? Our probability of surviving long in this new world seems slim…but we can hardly sit idly, I presume?" Lucina smiled inwardly at his words. Laurent had always been one to get to the point of the problem.

She chose her next words carefully. "No amount of grieving is going to bring our parents back. But…there is one thing we can do for them."

Again, silence. This time, it was Nah who spoke. "You want to perform the Awakening ritual."

It wasn't a question; it was a statement of fact. Lucina nodded. "It's the only way we can stop Grima. If we don't, he will rampage through this world until it is torn asunder. I refuse to sit idly while my world—and my people—are destroyed." Her eyes were steely with a determination none of the children had ever seen before-except, perhaps, in the eyes of her father.

Owain grinned suddenly. "Now _that's_ the cuz I know!" he exclaimed, clapping enthusiastically. "We can take Grima down!" Owain began laughing madly. "I'll leap from the tallest mountain onto the Fell Dragon's back! Then, I will plunge my sword, deep into his body, and he will—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Brady said, raising a hand. "Hold up. How we gonna perform the Awakening? Don't we need that, uh, thingy?"

"The Fire Emblem?" Lucina prompted incredulously. "You're calling Ylisse's greatest national treasure a _thingy_?"

"That ain't the point!"

Laurent nodded. "He's right, if crude with his diction. It's impossible to perform the Awakening without the Fire Emblem…and the five gems inside it." He adjusted his glasses studiously. "All of them were with Chrom, but now…the only bright side is that as far as we know, they're indestructible. A most interesting concept," Laurent continued, this time frowning. "How something can possibly be indestructible, I don't know…more research must be made, perhaps…if only mother were here…"

Lucina sighed in exasperation as Laurent rambled on. "Is Grima keeping members of the Grimleal alive?" she asked, cutting him off. "Maybe they have the gems?"

This time it was Kjelle's turn to speak up. "While you were out, Cynthia and I went out scouting to make sure we're in a relatively safe area. As it turns out, there's a Grimleal camp a few miles away. From what we managed to overhear, those who worship Grima are the only ones not being eradicated. It would make sense. Although I doubt the Risen really discriminate unless they're under Grima's direct control."

Lucina nodded, registering this new information. "Any idea why the Grimleal are here?" she asked.

Inigo shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, sweet Lucina. Perhaps we may go on a mission to find out?" He gave her another roguish wink.

_So much for him not trying to woo me. _Lucina ignored the shameless flirt. "How many are there, Kjelle?"

The knight did a couple quick calculations in her head. "I'd say there was about thirty of them, all told. Why do you ask, milady?"

Lucina paced back and forth, thinking rapidly. _Twelve of us…thirty enemies._ And possibly information they needed. She stopped pacing and suddenly snapped her fingers, smiling. Yarne groaned, seeing her suddenly changed mood. "I _hate _it when you get that look in your eyes," the taguel moaned.

"We'll ambush them when they break camp tomorrow morning!" Lucina exclaimed. "They won't be on guard for an attack, especially in the early morning hours, and we'll be well-rested."

Laurent rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I'm not one for tactics, but if we want to overcome their superior numbers, equipment, and defensive position, this would seem like the best course of action."

Nah frowned. "Why attack them? Seems rather risky…"

"We may be able to figure out information we need from them," Lucina explained patiently. "The more we know about what we're up against, the better it is for us. We're all skilled fighters here; well, besides Brady, that is," she said, acknowledging the priest with a nod, "so we should be able to overcome their numbers, especially with the element of surprise on our side."

Severa snorted. "Since when were you a strategist?" she asked somewhat roughly. Lucina held back a sharp retort; she knew it was simply Severa's way of talking, and that she didn't mean to be harsh. "I have to say though, it has promise," she finished, nodding approval at Lucina.

The rest slowly voiced their agreement, with the final two who hadn't spoken being Owain and Gerome. Gerome glanced at Lucina, as if confirming something in her face. "If you think this is for the best," he said slowly, drawing out his words clearly, "then I will not argue." He retreated to his secluded place by the fire.

Owain simply grinned, apparently not put off by being cut off earlier. "You know what I'm going to say, cuz," he chuckled. "One thing, though. What are we going to call ourselves? Everything has to have a name!"

Lucina rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know how you feel about names all too well, Owain," she replied. "As for our name…" She trailed off, gazing at the children gathered in front of her. _If I could fight alongside any group of people in the world, _she thought to herself, smiling, _I'd fight with them._

"I was thinking…we should call ourselves 'The Shepherds'."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the slight delay between chapters! This is probably one of the more difficult chapters I'll have to write for this fic, so it took a looong time, despite not being near as long as the last one. I had to introduce all the children (well, I could've gotten away with not, but I wanted to go ahead and gather them all now; it gets us to the past faster) as well as set a goal for Lucina in her future of despair. I ended up having to scrap half of it when Lucina came off as too weak, and it's still not to my satisfaction, but ah well. I've done the best I can, so I'm happy enough. XD The next chapter probably won't be out until Monday (three days from the time of this posting for me) because of life stuff.**

**Again, please review! And thank you to everyone who already has! Don't be afraid to offer criticism as well. S****hoot me a PM if you ever need anything; I finally figured out this site has a PM system, so I can write that. :P**

**-Sunswordred**


	4. Chapter Three: Taking Action

Chapter Three: Taking Action

Inigo crept through the brush quietly, glancing furtively from side to side as he stooped down low, keeping his footfall silent. His sword was drawn, and he held it diagonally by his waist, using his other hand to move stray branches out of his way. He didn't make a sound as he crept silently through the woods.

_CLANK_

Inigo winced at the sound of armor clunking together. He took another silent step forward.

_THUD_

He heard a pair of heavily armored boots slam into the ground behind him and flinched.

_CRACK_

A branch is snapped in half under the heavy boots. Inigo spun around. "Can you possibly be any louder?!" he hissed to the armored knight behind him.

Kjelle frowned. "Do _you _want to try moving around in this hunk of metal?" she snapped in reply, gesturing at her armor. "It's not exactly easy, you know!"

Inigo suddenly grinned. "Why not take it off then, sweet Kjelle?" he shot back, giving her a cheeky wink.

Kjelle's eyes shot daggers at him. "As soon as this is over," she hissed menacingly, "you are _so _dead, you shameless flirt."

If anything, Inigo's grin only got wider. "You can pin me down all you want, dear," he whispered seductively into her ear, before shooting away on his light feet, dashing through the brush in the direction of the Grimleal camp.

Kjelle merely shook her head glaring at his retreating figure. "That idiot's going to get us all killed," she muttered under her breath. Gripping her lance tighter, she forged onward, leaving a trail of cracked branches, crushed leaves, and broken tree roots in her wake. Inigo could only hope the Grimleal thought a big storm was approaching.

* * *

Gerome surveyed the Grimleal camp from atop his wyvern with lazy eyes.

They'd set up camp in a haphazard manner, with tents strewn about randomly from spot to spot. A few torches illuminated the guards on duty—and, conveniently, hid him and his wyvern from sight. The rest of the cultists slept lazily in their purple tents, with the sun having yet to peek over the horizon, and little enough light permeating the air.

A tight grip around his waist caused him to shift his focus from the camp below to the person behind him. Severa was seated on his mount, tightly gripping Gerome around the waist and looking uneasily at the ground below her. Gerome sensed her disquiet and let forth a rare chuckle. "Not one for heights, Severa?"

She snapped her gaze from the ground to the rider in front of her, a scowl darkening her exquisite features. "Oh, shut up," she grumbled, wiping the discomfort from her face. "Focus on the damn plan Miss Exalt drew out for us, already."

"Just waiting for the signal," was his only response.

Severa rolled her eyes at his measured words. "Gods, why couldn't I be paired with someone _fun?" _she muttered under her breath.

Gerome didn't reply, although Severa could've sworn she heard his wyvern scoff.

* * *

Lucina was also watching the Grimleal camp, but from a different position. She, and the main force of the Shepherds, were surrounding the camp in groups of two. She thought through the plan she'd concocted the night before. It was simple enough, really. Lucina had heard from her father that Robin always said the simplest plans were the most likely to succeed, and she was following that mantra.

Laurent would set fire to the Grimleal tents from afar using his fire magic. With luck, many of the Grimleal wouldn't be able to escape the flames. The rest would be forced into a rapid retreat into the woods surrounding the camp—where the Shepherds were waiting to fall upon the proverbial sheep. Gerome, Severa, and Cynthia would fall upon the Grimleal magic casters from above, felling them before they could do real damage, while the physical fighters would have little chance to draw steel before they were cut down by the Shepherds waiting in the woods. It was simple, but the fewer contingencies there were to a plan, the fewer the number of things that could go wrong.

Lucina glanced skyward, gazing at the gradually fading stars. _Lady Naga, watch over us this day, _she thought in silent prayer. Then, she nodded to Laurent, who was waiting beside her. The mage paused a second, flipping open the bright red tome he held in his hands, and then, muttering an incantation under his breath, he held his arms forth, as if to hug some imaginary figure before him.

And all of a sudden, the cool darkness of the morning got much brighter, and much hotter. A massive fireball appeared in the air over the camp and flew down ferociously. Within a mere second, it smashed into the ground in the middle of the camp and a massive _BOOM _echoed through the forest. Smaller fire balls ricocheted into the haphazard tents of the Grimleal, and suddenly the entire camp was aflame. Men screamed as they dashed from their tents, many only half-dressed, and even more beating at small fires on their clothing. The men on guard stumbled around, looking in every direction for the assailant. The Grimleal quickly realized that attempting to the beat the fire was futile, and they fled into the surrounding wood…where they were pounced on.

Lucina took a flying leap and impaled Falchion in the first man who came into the woods, one of the men who had been on patrol near the perimeter of the camp. She quickly withdrew Falchion from his corpse and slashed at another fleeing Grimleal, who had forgotten his Flux tome in his haste to escape his burning tent. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Laurent engaging in battle with a dark mage. The mage shouted an incantation and a blast of dark energy shot at Laurent. The prodigy merely waved a hand and a lightning ball shot forward, shattering the flux magic and continuing on its trajectory, impaling the cultist through the chest. The dark mage barely had time for a brief scream before he collapsed, dead on the spot, smoke issuing forth from a hole in his chest.

Kjelle and Inigo had ambushed a large group of Grimleal on the eatern side of the camp. They fought back to back, ignoring the wounds they received from the desperate cultists as they slew enemy after enemy with reckless disregard.

A swordsman came darting forth with steel drawn, charging Lucina. He brought his sword up above his head and then down in a hard slash, but Lucina merely sidestepped and thrust, knowing he'd have no time to recover and dodge her risky attack. She was rewarded with a moan as Falchion cut straight through his side, and he fell as she withdrew her weapon. She leapt backwards to avoid a wild hacking slash from an axmen, and quickly swept her blade upwards, hoping to catch her assailant off guard. She was slightly surprised when Falchion was deflected by a golden shield on the man's arm, and she paused to take in this new attacker.

He was wielding a short, yet strong, looking ax in one hand, and a shield in the other. Lucina froze when she managed to get a full glance at the shield. It had five empty slots on the front, with each slot having a circular shape. Ancient runes surrounded the top slot on the shield…or emblem, as it was properly called. For Lucina recognized this particular shield. It was the Fire Emblem. The Fire Emblem her father had died trying to retrieve.

She swept her gaze from the shield to the man wielding it. He was a cruel, brutish looking Plegian, with dark hair and an unkempt beard, and hard, unfriendly eyes. The man chuckled. "Recognize this, lass?" he asked, holding up his shield. He glanced at Falchion, grinning evilly as he recognized the blade. "Your father almost regained possession of the Emblem…for all of about ten seconds. It was mere feet away from his cold, dead corpse." Another cruel chuckle.

Lucina gripped her sword tightly. Her vision was slowly becoming red, as her eyes narrowed until all she saw was the Plegian in front of her, who continued talking, heedless of Lucina's change in demeanor. "Heh…you should've been there. He thought it was all over, only to get stabbed in the back with victory in his grasp. You Shepherds…oh so big about your 'bonds'. The irony, eh? He was stabbed in the back by those bonds!"

Suddenly, Lucina went on the attack.

She charged the gloating Grimleal, who barely had time to block her stroke with the Fire Emblem. He was forced into a desperate defense, as she rained blow upon blow with Falchion, sparks flying from their blades. The man never even had a chance to attempt a counterblow, as Lucina's strength and speed were fed by her fury. And finally, the inevitable happened. Lucina brought Falchion down hard over the man's head, and he barely had time to hold his silver ax horizontally over himself before her steel met his…and snapped his weapon in half, with his weapon not even slowing hers before it split his skull in half. Blood sprayed everywhere and the man fell over, dead on the spot.

Lucina pulled Falchion out of the corpse, panting slightly, before realizing that the fighting was over. The Grimleal had been slain to a man, and the rest of the Shepherds were looking at her with something akin to awe…and fear. Lucina closed her eyes briefly, controlling the rage she'd felt at the man's words. Then, she knelt down and pulled the Fire Emblem off his arm. She held it over her head, allowing a small smile to break out on her bloodstained face as she faced her comrades. The dancing flames behind her illuminated her, giving her the appearance of a warrior goddess, vengeance in her eyes, determination set on her face.

"Step one complete, everyone. Now, we've got five gems to find."

* * *

The next few hours were spent fighting the fire Laurent had started. Eventually, he was the one to end it, as he used his wind magic to dump massive amounts of water from the nearby river onto the flames.

Brady went from Shepherd to Shepherd, healing any wound he saw, major or minor, as he went. Inigo and Kjelle had taken most of the damage, as many of the Grimleal had fled to the portion of the forest they were waiting in. Lucina, Laurent, and Nah had gotten off almost unscathed. Gerome and Severa's guerrilla style attacks had worked to perfection, as the cultist mages were cut down before they could even open their tomes. Despite their apparent dislike for each other, they'd fought well together. Cynthia had cut down the Grimleal that had attempted to flee the ambush, flying in from above and lancing them. Noire's arrows from her back had cut down even more of the fleeing cultists.

The Shepherds recovered what they could from the camp, and piled the bodies before burning them. The final count was actually much higher than the initial estimate, as there were fifty Grimleal all told—fifty one counting their leader, who Lucina had dueled. With the Grimleal camp behind them, Lucina thought through their next move carefully. They made camp at the abandoned fort again; it gave some shelter from the elements, and hid the smoke from their fire. It was a quieter night, with little banter between the small group as they thought the day's action through. For many, they had killed their first man, and it had been a harrowing experience.

Lucina volunteered for first watch, and sat calmly staring into the quietly crackling flames, thinking through their next move- and the Plegian leader's last words.

_Only to get stabbed in the back…by who? Betrayed by his bonds? Surely- _

"Mind if I join you?"

Lucina glanced up at the smooth voice that disrupted her musings. Gerome stood at the edge of the flames, watching her with an unreadable look on his face. Lucina merely shrugged, and Gerome took that for a no. He sat down next to her, gazing into the flames silently.

"You've changed, Gerome," Lucina said. It wasn't a question, an accusation, or even spoken like some revelation; it was a mere statement of fact. Gerome didn't protest; his face didn't shift in the slightest. "It's like…" Lucina's voice trailed off as she searched for an appropriate word, "You've put up some sort of…shield. You guard yourself from everything."

Gerome snorted at this. "And you wonder why?"

Lucina shook her head sadly. "Do you think if you don't allow yourself to feel, you avoid loss?" she asked, shifting her eyes from the fire to the wyvern rider. "We all lost people close to us. But to not allow yourself to feel close to anyone because of that? It's a sad life to live."

Gerome still didn't look at Lucina, still didn't shift his eyes from the flames. He was silent for a long time, before finally speaking. "You should get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

Lucina sighed at her inability to reach him. "If you insist," she said, laying down. Within a minute, she was sound asleep.

* * *

Gerome finally stood up and walked to the entrance to the fort, gazing up at the stars. He heard a soft patter of feet behind him and groaned inwardly, expecting another lecture from Lucina. He turned, only to see Severa approaching.

She gave him a cool glance. "Need something?"

"Nope," was all he said in return.

She gave a harsh laugh. "Don't say much, do you?"

Gerome turned away from her. "I don't need another lecture. Thanks."

Severa snorted. "What, you think Lucina was wrong back there? How dense are you?"

"You're one to talk."

Severa glowered at his curt response. "I may try my best to be an ice queen, but I have nothing on you. Seriously, at least I _talk _every now and then. And I actually have a friend. You? You're alone."

Gerome started to reply, stopped, and then started again, but no words came out. Severa laughed at his reaction. "Finally hit you, huh? Wondering who'll be at your funeral, if we actually have those in this fucked up world?"

Gerome flinched. His voice was cold when he spoke again. "I'll live and fight for Lucina, because it is my duty. When I die, I die. I doubt I'll care much who remembers me when I'm dead."

Severa snorted hopelessly and started to walk away, before pausing for a second. She pulled something out of her pocket and tossed it to Gerome. It glinted dimly as it flew through the air, falling to the ground at his feet. "I was hoping I might be able to get through to you," she muttered. "But if you refuse reason, maybe you'll accept that. You'll find more use for it than me." Without another word, she turned and walked away.

Gerome bent down and picked up the fallen object, gazing at it curiously as he turned it over in his hands. It was black, with a thin middle and two long slits on each side. An extremely thin, white cloth covered the slits. It was designed so one could see through the cloth from one side, but not the other. A thin piece of rope was knotted around the back of the object.

Gerome slid the mask over his face. It fit perfectly.

* * *

**A/N: **

**I feel pretty satisfied with this chapter, although it was a little short and things are moving a little slowly for my taste. I don't want to go too far past chapter sixish and still be in the Future, so I might have to extend the next few chapters' length significantly. Three chapters for five gems and developing the rest of the characters is impossible at this pace. **

**I had no intention of turning the last part of this chapter into Gerome time, honestly. It kind of just happened. XD For some reason, I find it really easy to write him. Unless I'm totally screwing up with his character, but I'm pretty sure I'm not.**

**I know Severa isn't the one who gives Gerome his mask- and I honestly don't even know who does- but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. I'll explain where **_**she **_**got it from eventually, of course, but their development is lower priority now. After all, the wall is up for real for Gerome now.**

**I really need to learn to make these shorter. As always, thank you for all of your reviews. Keep them coming! They inspire me to write.**


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